The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 4521 The Darkest Night (49)

Chapter 4521 The Darkest Night (Forty-Nine)

Gotham is often called the "Dark City." But this isn't just because it's shrouded in dark clouds. In fact, Gotham possesses a very strong Gothic atmosphere—melancholy, mysterious, and dangerous. Spires are hidden in thick fog, and biting cold rain falls every night. This atmosphere isn't solely shaped by its unique natural environment, but also by its atmosphere that reveres philosophy and art.

Even in the most violent gangster era—with shootouts, murders, and bloodshed for family interests—the Twelve Families were by no means just brutes who only knew how to fire guns. They had their own cultural atmosphere and artistic pursuits. To outsiders, they were almost aristocratic in their elegance.

Such a profound cultural heritage was naturally not achieved overnight. The Irish who landed brought with them a wealth of religious and cultural texts; the missionaries first built churches, and then libraries.

First came the Gotham Library, then Gotham University, and finally, the Gotham madmen, brimming with philosophical and artistic inspiration. Over the years, countless people have poured their mad ideas into this place: all sorts of never-before-seen manuscripts and biographies, tomes compiled in the throes of madness, truths glimpsed by chance…

The salt that was once spilled here flowed into the blood of Gotham's inhabitants along with the muddy sewage, settled in their brains, and then returned to its original form in their writings. Book after book that tells the truth is sealed in Gotham University's library. They may seem like the ramblings of a madman, but you can find almost all the truth about the Dark City here.

Gotham University's old campus doesn't retain much. Aside from a few historic buildings, the only thing that hasn't been moved is the Gotham University library. Despite its high historical and cultural value, no one seems interested in exploring just how much is stored there or what those things actually are.

Victor taught at Gotham University for many years and enjoyed visiting the university library regularly. The library primarily houses religious and artistic texts. Victor was particularly fond of Enlightenment philosophy books, which he would read in his spare time.

Stepping back into the library, Victor thought of many leisurely afternoons. But the library at night seemed different. He had never been here after dark. The rows of bookshelves and the somewhat worn wooden stairs no longer seemed so serene and peaceful. In the dim light filtering through the Gothic-spired windows, the intricate patterns formed mysterious designs, carrying a touch of the eerie. The elegant and solemn plaster statues of the day stood like silent observers, while the portraits on the walls seemed to suddenly come alive.

He shouldn't have let this city fall into eternal night. Victor followed Constantine inside, thinking that the darkness would bring too much back to Gotham, things that could even devour death.

Passing through the hall and pulling open the intricately patterned iron door, the bookshelves in the reading area became even denser. Ascending the spiral staircase upstairs, the two figures appeared and disappeared before a row of pointed windows. It wasn't until Constantine pushed open a door that Victor had never entered before, or even noticed, that he realized this library concealed even more dark secrets.

This is a completely new area, seemingly untouched by most. The Renaissance-style statues are nowhere to be found, replaced by bizarrely grotesque monster sculptures; the beautiful and elegant Rococo paintings have been transformed into strange graffiti that is both surreal and overly classical in style.

The hall was still filled with bookshelves, but there weren't many books. Instead, there were bundles of unknown manuscripts, so many that the shelves couldn't even hold them all, and they were piled up haphazardly in the corners, covered in a thick layer of dust.

Walking around the bookshelf on the left, they came to a door. Constantine pushed the door open, and before Victor went in, he saw a metal sign nailed to the door that read "Rodriguez Pen Club".

Inside was a circular study. In the center stood a huge globe, behind which was a large desk, and behind that, more bookshelves. Victor subconsciously looked up; the chandeliers hanging from the circular dome were uniquely designed, depicting planets one after another. However, they were neither part of the solar system, nor any of the discovered star systems Victor knew of.

“Those are the stars,” Constantine answered the question that was on Victor's mind.

"Stars?"

“There is a place in the universe that cannot be observed, a place called ‘the depths of the stars.’” Constantine also looked up at the planet that was glowing faintly in the darkness. “Some people who heard the call of the stars began to search for the source of the sound. Most of them failed, but some glimpsed the scenery of the depths of the stars.”

"They could not tell anyone, for any information would drive them mad. So they buried what they saw in dark stories. Only those who had the same experience could understand them. In this way, they built a secret alliance through writing, communicating with each other for centuries, sharing what they had seen and heard, and at the same time... exploring the secrets deep within the stars."

“Once such dangerous behavior begins, it often leads to results more terrifying than death. Almost everyone went mad. The survivors frantically warned others to stop spying, so they fell silent again, maintaining minimal communication until someone arrived.”

“Schiller Rodriguez?” Victor asked.

Constantine nodded. He walked to the sofa in the reception area by the window, and Victor followed. He said, "But not the Schiller you know."

Who is that?

Constantine shook his head slightly: "No one knows who he is, where he comes from, or what he wants. He just appears suddenly and then disappears, like a nameless passerby."

What did he do?

"He rebuilt the pen pal society, restored communications for global observers, and then..."

"And then what?" Victor narrowed his eyes slightly, speaking with a mix of guesswork and certainty, "To re-explore the depths of the stars?"

Constantine nodded slightly. Victor sat down, rested his hand on the armrest, sighed, and said, "What a classic horror movie opening."

"Up to this point, the rest of the plot seems predictable," Constantine said. "An arrogant researcher, pulling in observers from all over the world to study forbidden knowledge, and then together they head towards destruction. The only problem is that this researcher is Schiller Rodriguez, who never plays by the rules, no matter which one it is."

Victor glanced at the ring on his hand, nodded, and said, "That's right. So what did he do?"

"He didn't just want to observe, he wanted to make contact. So he embarked on an extremely crazy plan..."

Victor paused, looked at Constantine, and said, "He wouldn't be trying to summon those things from the depths of the stars to Earth, would he?"

“I told you, he doesn’t play by the rules.” Constantine sighed. “There are far too many people who summon all sorts of mysterious beings to Earth. Schiller is different—he plans to send himself there.”

Victor froze completely, looking at Constantine as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Constantine lowered his eyes and continued, "To be precise, he not only wants the beings deep within the stars to see him, but also wants them to be forced to make contact with him."

"...He succeeded?"

Constantine nodded again, placed the black notebook in his hand on the table, and said, "He not only went successfully, but he also came back successfully. Moreover, he brought back a lot of useful things. Apart from the power, the forbidden knowledge about the depths of the stars has been preserved in the Gotham University library."

Victor thought of the manuscripts he had seen outside the study and said, "Were those all left by him?"

“Not just him, but all the knowledge gathered by the members of the Rodriguez Pen Pals has been left here. And the main reason I brought you here is to find this.”

Constantine walked behind his desk, opened a drawer, took out a burgundy notebook, and placed it in front of Victor.

Victor picked it up and looked at it, finding many names and mailing addresses recorded on it. Most of the names were aliases: "The Man Who Writes Darkness," "The Blair Witch," "The Gypsy Diviner," "The Multifaceted Apprentice," and so on. The mailing addresses were also bizarre, mostly not private residences, but mailboxes at conservation stations in remote wilderness areas.

“These are all pen pals,” Constantine said, sitting back down. “Some of them must have received the rings too, and we need to get in touch with them.”

“I don’t understand.” Victor closed his notebook and said, “What exactly is this ring? And why did Schiller give it to us?”

Constantine did not answer directly. He got up and left the study, quickly returning with a manuscript, which he handed to Victor.

Victor hesitated before opening it, saying, "Are you sure this is okay to watch?"

"Don't worry, everything that's out there is safe and harmless. The things that can't be seen are kept in a secret room."

Victor untied the rope and flattened the paper. He immediately noticed that the texture of the paper and the traces of ink looked quite old, probably a journal from the 18th or 19th century.

“Mysterious fog…the distant source…the boundary between mystery and reality…” Victor looked up. “This is…gray fog?”

“The Nameless Mist,” Constantine replied. “That is his real name. I have read all the records here, and the information about this Outer God is the least, but there is no doubt that he is related to Schiller.”

Victor recalled the image he had once seen Schiller turn into a cloud of mist. It was clearly not an ordinary cloud of mist; it looked very mysterious, yet it perfectly matched Schiller's temperament.

Victor opened the journal and continued reading. He quickly caught the key words: "Turning thoughts into reality...the power of dreams...is this really possible?"

“Nothing is impossible,” Constantine said. “There are too many powerful and mysterious forces in this world. Didn’t you just witness the miracle of the dead coming back to life?”

Victor reluctantly accepted this explanation. After all, resurrection was far more mystical than turning thoughts into reality. To some extent, ordinary people could also turn thoughts into reality, though the process was more complicated. While turning human thoughts into reality didn't violate the rules of the universe, resurrection was a different story—physics ceased to exist.

"Can what I write become real?" Victor was still somewhat skeptical about this.

Constantine nodded and said, “Yes. But the Grey Lantern Ring isn’t a wish-granting machine; it doesn’t make whatever you write come true. It’s like a novel; the logic has to be sound, the imagination has to be rich, and most importantly, it has to evoke emotional resonance in people.”

“Emotions…” Victor seemed to realize something. “Is that why they’re expressed as lamp rings?”

“I suppose so,” Constantine said. “Whether it’s logic or emotion, it’s all about getting the reader involved, immersing them in the story and the dream. Only in this way can creation be brought to life.”